


Beat the Heat

by wyntera



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 05:42:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11269104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntera/pseuds/wyntera
Summary: McHanzo Week Day 5 Prompt: Traditional // UnorthodoxHanzo and McCree are fans of tasty metaphors.





	Beat the Heat

They choose to get ice cream on a whim. Certainly not what they would usually choose to do with their free time, but the heat this week has been overpowering, so far above normal that Mei entertained the idea that Talon had somehow created a weather death ray and pointed it at Gibraltar. Even McCree, who typically thrived in hot weather, had forgone his usual serape and taken to using his bandana to wipe the sweat from his brow. The only time Hanzo considered braving the sun was to indulge Satya when she expressed an interest in sunbathing, but even with careful application of sunscreen it just proved to be too unbearable to stand.

But the outside world does not stop just because Overwatch’s agents are suffering through the highest heat wave in Gibraltar’s history, so Hanzo and McCree find themselves on a supply run to town despite their protests. It is so hot that the cobblestones beneath their feet put off heat like asphalt. Bickering is inevitable after so many days being uncomfortable, but a few hours of traipsing all over town drains the fight out of even the most stubborn of cowboys and archers; it is simply too hot to argue. In a fit of desperation McCree suggests they get a scoop if only to get out of the sun for a few minutes. To his surprise Hanzo readily agrees.

There is something magical about the moment one steps from the hot cloying heat of summer through the doors of an ice cream parlor and into the wall of cool air inside. A full-body tingle of relief is accompanied by the welcoming jingle of bells hanging from the door. McCree half-expects the line would be out the door for this time of day but there are only a handful of people in line; they must have hit a lull in the crowd. Falling in line behind the other patrons they investigate the options through the curved glass of the freezer counter.

“Have you eaten here before?” Hanzo asks, frowning as he reads the labels on the flavors.

“Yeah, on a few occasions. Seem to remember it bein’ here since my Blackwatch days,” McCree replies. “Why?”

“Their choices are...interesting.”

McCree glances at the containers full of colorful ice cream and sherbet. “Ah, yeah. A bit experimental, this place. They’ve always got somethin’ new cooked up in here. Tell you the truth, I wish I had time to come down more often. But Angela would have my hide if I started eatin’ ice cream on the regular.”

At their turn Hanzo is still indecisive so McCree goes ahead. A scoop of cardamom black pepper and a scoop of cayenne chocolate on a chocolate waffle cone. The combination has Hanzo wrinkling his nose as he watches the helpful server compile the treat. “Will that be all?” she asks, handing the tall cone over the counter to McCree.

“Mine and whatever he’s getting,” McCree says.

“You do not have to get mine,” Hanzo argues.

“It’s on me. You can get next time.”

A silent argument takes place in the span of feet between their eyes but Hanzo assents, too tired and sweaty to argue about ice cream. “A scoop of Matcha, please.”

“Coming right up!”

They would much prefer to stay inside with the strong air conditioning of the ice cream parlor but the agents know that their appearance can be quite intimidating in a normal family setting. There are mothers with their children taking up some of the inside tables and already some of them are eyeing Hanzo and McCree with distrust. Rather than deal with the awkwardness they head back outside and find a bench along the sidewalk. Luckily the sun is at just the right angle for a nearby tree to cast the bench into shade. With the ice cream already beginning to melt they get to eating quickly.

“What did you get again?” McCree asks. “That tea stuff?”

Hanzo holds the distinctive green ice cream up for McCree to see clearly. “Matcha,” he repeats. “It is a traditional flavor in Japan. Much like your vanilla and chocolate in America, I believe.”

“What’s it taste like?”

“Like matcha. Which you would know if you ever tried the tea yourself.”

“I would if you’d let me. Ain’t my fault it’s so expensive you hoard it all.”

Hanzo smiles and drags his tongue across the ice cream, savoring the slightly bitter sweetness. “And what is that you have?”

“We got cardamom black pepper on the bottom--it’s got this sort of gingery-citrusy-base flavor, I ain’t sure exactly what--and then the top is cayenne chocolate.”

“You have had these before?”

“Not the cardamom, but it sounded interestin’. I’m always open to trying new things,” McCree says, shrugging. Some of the bottom scoop starts running down the cone over his fingers and he tilts his head to lick the drips before they can fall to his lap.

Hanzo finds his eyes glued to McCree’s tongue too long to be decent. “How can you enjoy something so complicated?”

McCree grins. “Well, I enjoy your company, don’t I sugar?”

He licks at his ice cream and gives Hanzo a suggestive wink that would make Hanzo blush if his face were not already so overheated. “Are you suggesting I am complicated?” Hanzo asks, biting some of his own treat.

“You’d be boring if you weren’t,” McCree counters. “Maybe you need a little more unusual in your life.”

“We work for Overwatch and I can summon dragons at will. How much more unusual do you need? Sometimes something safe is needed. Something comfortable.”

“Like matcha ice cream.”

The words are a little more serious than Hanzo thinks the conversation warrants, and he glances up at McCree. Maybe they are not still talking about ice cream. “That is not to say I am opposed to trying new things,” he adds.

McCree’s eyes widen a little. No, they are not talking about ice cream anymore. But McCree can maintain the illusion. He holds his ice cream cone out closer to Hanzo. “Want to give it a try?”

Hanzo laughs a little, nervous for reasons he cannot quite understand. He looks at the two scoops slowly melting into one on the cone, tilting his head one way then the other to try and figure out what angle to approach from. “How do I even…?”

“Just eat what you’d like, I don’t mind sharin’,” McCree says, offering it out to his companion.

Hanzo leans forward and licks up the cone. Flavor explodes over his tongue, sweet and spice, cold and peppery heat, citrus and cream. He meets McCree’s eyes as he finishes, and McCree is clearly watching his every move so Hanzo licks his lips after. “Better than expected,” he says, offering his own cone.

McCree is even more lewd, holding eye contact the whole time and his tongue just barely grazing Hanzo’s knuckle before he swipes upward. At the end he hums as he thinks about the taste. When he swallows McCree smiles lazily. “Not bad, not bad at all. Hey, you know what I always liked to do?”

“What’s that?”

“Try it together.” Before Hanzo can really process the words McCree leans in close enough for their breaths to mingle, slow enough for Hanzo to pull back if McCree read the situation wrong. Much to his relief Hanzo crosses the few remaining inches and presses their lips together. McCree wastes no time in opening his mouth, cool tongue lapping at Hanzo’s and slipping inside. It is initially cold but warms up quickly, slick and sticky and with the ice cream mixing with their own unique tastes there are too many flavors to track. One kiss blends into two blends into ten, until there is nothing but sugar and Hanzo and McCree to taste.

They break for air and Hanzo has a moment to share a heavy-lidded gaze with McCree before his facial expression morphs from aroused intent to a grimace. Hanzo’s heart lurches in his throat before he realizes the irritated look is not from their kiss but from the ice cream now melting in rivulets all over the cowboy’s hand. “Shit!” McCree blurts, darting forward to lick up what he can and fishing a napkin out of his pocket.

Hanzo laughs, doing the same for his own that somehow managed to not drip onto his clothes. “Oops.”

“A’ight, maybe not the best timing,” McCree admits, turning bashful.

“No, it was very smooth,” Hanzo insists. “Better than the flirting over drinks.”

McCree rolls his eyes skyward before sighing. “You just look so cute when you’re indulgin’ in something you like. I thought, you know. Try when you’re happy.”

Sitting back against the bench Hanzo nibbles at his cone. “Allow me to finish this, and we can continue to indulge in something that makes us happy.”

“Yeah?” McCree asks, hopeful.

Hanzo hums his assent, then lifts the ice cream up so he can bite the bottom of the cone and start sucking the ice cream from the bottom.

“Oh, now you’re just being  _ lewd!” _ McCree shouts. Their laughter drifts up into the afternoon air with the heat. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like that and want more, want to check out my art, or just want to chat, come on by my tumblr! You can find me under username wyntera. And if twitter is more your game, come and join me there, just look for @ThreeCatDesigns.
> 
> And hey. Thanks.


End file.
